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((No, Sigerson wins! [And all signs point to me still having a Sigerson at my beck and call, and that brings joy to my cold and dead heart.]))

Gabe stopped in his dead tracks and considered, for a moment, just turning around and going back up the stairs. It wasn't that he was surprised at what he saw. It was more that he was surprised Holmes had lost it so soon. He'd figured that the Great Detective would have had more willpower. He shook his head, not sure if he disapproved or was proud of Holmes for getting over his Victorianism. "You know what?" he said, finally. "You two go back to whatever you were doing. I need to get bedsheets and then I'll be right out." He shook his head again and started towards the closet.

Gabe opened the door to the closet and took a look over his shoulder at Holmes and Watson. He glared at Holmes for a second before giving a very pointed look at Watson's turned back and then walked into the closet, hoping Holmes was smart enough to have gotten the point. The point being, of course, apologize to him, you dolt, if you ever want to get into his pants. He very courteously closed the door most of the way behind him, though not enough that he wasn't able to tell what was going on.

Gabe shook his head at the two of them and gave Holmes a glare that said that if something interesting didn't happen soon, he would probably lose his chance. He found a lightswitch inside the closet and flicked it. Though he couldn't see any fixtures or bulbs it got brighter anyway and he shut the door softly, wondering if anything interesting would happen now that he was not there to see it.

((ARGH. The more I think about the Space Between Time they inhabit the more it reminds me of One Ash Tree Lane and it's starting to freak me out.))

Gabe glanced around the closet, looking for any of the things he needed. He spotted bed fixings and took them down, placing them in a pile by his feet. A few shelves above him he saw what looked to be a sketchbook and stepped up onto the first shelf, one hand gripping tightly to a higher shelf to keep him from falling backwards. He reached out blindly and grabbed onto the spiral edge of the sketchbook, taking it off the shelf and tossing it to the floor before hopping back down himself. He grabbed a pencil and tossed it into the bundle of linens. He picked it up and walked over to the door, which he knocked rather sharply upon. "I'm coming out," he said, not intending a pun, I swear, "so if you two want to rush hurriedly away from each other and just stare awkwardly, now's the time."

Gabe shook his head and exited the closet, switching off the light as he did. "And you, Holmes," he said, looking at the other man, slightly dismayed, "disappoint me." He paused for a moment and then yawned. "I'm off to bed, I think," he said, gesturing towards the stairs with his hands full of linens. "If you boys need anything I'm sure it's in the closet. Have fun." He sighed, slightly more tired than he would have liked, and started upstairs.

Gabe smiled at the sound of his love's voice. "It's me," he said, and pushed the door open enough for him to slip through. "Miss me?" he asked, and leaned forward to kiss Jeannot gently, dropping the bundle of bedclothes on the floor so he could wrap his arms around him.

Gabe took Jeannot's hand in his and turned his head to kiss his love's palm. "If you didn't want me to leave," he said, looking at Jeannot very seriously, "you ought to have said. And, besides, if I'm ever away from you for very long it's probably not by my own choice." He smiled at kissed Jeannot's forehead. "It was a very silly notion."